


Burden of Truth

by ninamyyly



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Detective Keith (Voltron), Family Secrets, Getting Back Together, Human Experimentation, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Minor Allura/Lotor (Voltron), Murder, Murder Mystery, Mutual Pining, Post Mpreg, Post Trans Mpreg, Secrets, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Small Towns, Trans Keith (Voltron), Witch Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:41:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23328694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninamyyly/pseuds/ninamyyly
Summary: Keith never imagined he'd return to the small seaside town known as Oriande Cove after spending one memorable summer there five years ago. But when an anonymous letter threatens to reveal the secret he's tried to keep since he returned home, compelling him to solve the murder of the local doctor, Keith finds himself lacking many options. Who could've murdered the kindly Sam Holt whom everyone in town seemed to like, and why? And can Keith keep his secrets and his feelings in check in this place full of memories and familiar faces?
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	Burden of Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my beta-reader @leandralena, and my dear friend Eghfeithrean for helping to develop this from a basic concept to an actual story! ❤︎.

Each step he takes up the stairs feels heavier than the last. His legs ache from the sudden exercise, weary after long hours of sitting in his car, and his lungs burn with each heavy, shrill breath he gasps in. His head swims, his eyes stinging with how they struggle to stay open. It’s only by sheer willpower, and telling himself that soon enough he’ll reach the third floor that keeps Keith going. He tries to take all the comfort and hope he can from the idea that after a few more sets of stairs, he’ll be able to fall into bed and finally sleep. For a few hours, he’ll be able to forget about bills, the dishes waiting to be washed in the sink, the long night he spent on a watch in his car  _ again _ , and all his other daily worries about how to make do and survive.

Keith lets out a huge sigh of relief when he finally reaches the top of the final set of stairs; not pausing to let his breathing even out before he starts digging for his chain of keys from the pocket of his pants. He allows himself a touch of a smile as he pulls them out, and puts the right one in the lock of the worn, wooden door before him. He might hate going out and watching for unfaithful husbands, wives and partners, especially when he actually finds something. Such work makes up the majority of his salary, though, so he can’t complain too much. And at least this time around it seems like the money will be good. Maybe this summer he’ll actually be able to take a proper holiday with Sven and Mom. Perhaps they can take a trip to the beach or something, if nothing fancier than that. That could be fun.

He turns the key in the lock, opening the door to reveal an empty, silent apartment. Seeing his home like this causes Keith to both sigh in relief, and feel a twinge of disappointment in his chest. Being able to sleep undisturbed for a few hours sounds like an incredible prospect on his work-weary body; but it’s still always a bit lonely when his arrival is not greeted by the pitter-patter of little feet running to hug him, the cheerful barks of his enormous dog-like creature, and the warm smile of his Mom.

With another quieter sigh, Keith contents himself to only having the company of the late morning mail sitting on the welcoming mat by his feet. Absentmindedly, almost out of sheer habit, he bends down to pick them up. As he removes his shoes, and the jacket he wore to keep out the night chill, he finds himself leafing through the post, feeling the weight of them. Bill, bill, coupons for the local eatery, advertisements for upcoming sales, and…

A letter. Addressed to him. And quite a thick one, at that.

Perhaps Keith’s heart shouldn’t have started thumping the nervous, confused rhythm it does as he inspects it. Given his line of work, people have gotten in contact with him in all manner of ways in the past, wanting to hire him but hoping to be as discreet about it as possible. He’s been getting more jobs than ever before thanks to that one recent article in the newspaper, too. But it’s still a rare occurrence that he gets a letter that is personally addressed, like this. Most people usually approach him through email or via his phone. He can’t even remember the last time he got an actual letter.

Unable to help his curiosity, Keith finds himself making his way from the doorway towards the small kitchen, walking in a dazed state and never taking his eyes off the letter. Without much thought, he sets down the rest of the mail on the second-hand table surrounded by four mismatched chairs, and reaches into one of the kitchen drawers for a pen knife. He tears the letter open in a few quick movements, rushing to reach for the contents inside with shaking fingers.

Money is the first thing his fingertips touch. The soft, uneven surface of dollar bills is intimately familiar to him, as many of his clients prefer to pay him in cash rather than by card. There’s a thick stash of money inside the envelope, and with baited breath, Keith drags it out and does a quick count.

Over 2,000 dollars. More than enough to cover two weeks of his employment at his usual rate.

Slowly, carefully, as if worried they might vanish at the slightest sign of his nerves, Keith sets the bills down before reaching into the envelope again. This time, his fingers find what feels like regular paper, and he pulls it out with his heart pounding in his ears. The paper has been folded in half to fit inside the envelope, and Keith moves to open it, even as he feels the tremors in his entire body.

The unfolded letter consists of a short note, mostly covered by the newspaper clipping attached at its corner. The headline reads:  _ Local doctor found dead in his office. _ Keith’s heart drops down to his stomach as he takes in the picture that goes with the article, looking at the smile of the bearded man with glasses, forever immortalized and frozen in the photograph.

He can’t look away from that smile. Can’t turn his gaze away, anymore than he can help the way his mind begins flooding with memories that he’s done his best to push away, for so long. The sea winds that never seemed to end, always carrying the mild scent of salt within them. The sound of waves hitting the rocks by the shore. The feeling of strong, warm arms around his back, and gentle lips cool from the breeze touching his own, intimate enough for him to taste the salt on them…

And the man in the photograph, the doctor in the article, Sam Holt, smiling that same friendly smile as his picture. It was always accompanied by a greeting and a wave as he passed them by on his way out of the general grocery store. Perhaps his smile had been more for the benefit of Keith’s companion than himself, but he’d been warmed by the sight of it nonetheless. It had been a welcomed respite from the general pensiveness the other residents of Oriande Cove showed towards the peculiar stranger. One who stood out with his many rings, necklaces and bracelets to go with his invasive powers.

One who wasn’t one of the expected tourists during the warm seasons, but not a new resident either.

Shaking off his memories, Keith reaches to move the article out of the way to properly see the note that comes with it. It’s a white sheet that looks like computer print paper, especially given that the text is clearly typed.

What he reads on it almost makes him drop the letter.

_ Come figure this out, or I’ll tell Shiro your secret. _


End file.
